Born of Faith
by l0litapop
Summary: When Astoria Greengrass returns to Hogwarts after the war to continue her education, the last thing she expected to discover is her best friend in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. Despite this, the attraction between her and the Prince of Slytherin is dangerously strong. Astoria/Draco
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello everyone! Some notes: I didn't like the way Astoria looked in the movie's versions of the crapilogue, so I've re-created her look in my story a bit. Please drop me a review and let me know how you like the first chapter! Enjoy. **

**- Lolli**

**| |- Born of Faith - | |**

**[1]**

Seeing everyone again was surreal. It was almost as if things were just as they had been, before the war. Now that it was over, many students had returned to Hogwarts to complete their education. Astoria casually waved her greetings as she made her way through the crowd to the Slytherin common room, which was farther from the Great Hall than she would have preferred. Her feet were still killing her from hours of last-minute shopping yesterday.

It felt as if no time at all had passed since they were last all here. Year seven could hardly be counted a reasonable finale to their education, and most parents had agreed that it was necessary to give it another try, now that everything was settled and most people had set aside their differences. Astoria still had two years to complete, after all.

The castle hadn't changed. It had been so long since she'd been there, she was almost surprised at how well she remembered the winding hallways and various shortcuts. Somehow, despite what had happened, it still felt like… home. But there was a distinct heaviness in the air, as if everyone was still adjusting to the fact that all the chaos was over. The war had been over for months, but there was still palpable tension between some students. Not to mention the distinct absence of those who'd been lost. The memories of the former Headmasters Snape and Dumbledore were especially bitter.

The common room was unexpectedly empty. There were two shadowed people in the corner by the fireplace, heads bowed together as they spoke quietly. She was turning toward the girls' dormitory when a more familiar figure caught her eye. His head was emerging from one of the wood-paneled cabinets as it clunked against the frame. In the dim light, she almost didn't recognize the boy. A grunt of pain, or perhaps surprise, barely escaped his lips, but it was loud enough for her to hear ten feet away. He knelt by the cabinet and rubbed the back of his head for a moment.

So Draco Malfoy had decided to show his face at school again. She couldn't help feeling a bit impressed. There were surely a great deal of students who had a low opinion of him, yet here he was. Did he value his education so much? Or had his mother insisted on him coming back? She was about to step into the stairwell when he turned around, probably hearing the click of her heels against the granite. She offered him the same small wave and smile she'd been giving everyone that day. There was a flicker of confusion on his face as she realized he probably didn't recognize her. It hadn't occurred to her before that Draco Malfoy wouldn't even know who she _was_. He'd known her sister fairly well, she'd thought. The fact that he didn't even know of her existence had her feeling a bit belittled.

"I'm Astoria. Daphne's sister," she said quickly, feeling sheepish. He cleared his throat and stood up, pushing his hair away from his face. It caught her a little off-guard when he actually offered her a handshake.

"Draco." She nodded idly. "Did Daphne return as well?" It wasn't until then that she realized how exhausted he looked. He seemed less alert, thinner, and generally worse-off than he had a year ago. With his cheeks sunken and with deep dark circles beneath his eyes, he resembled a shadow of his former self. The fact that he was even making conversation with her was odd enough – the old Draco didn't bother with small talk. At least, not with anyone she knew.

"She did. She's… upstairs, still. Probably." Draco sighed and glanced back at the cabinet, suddenly striking her as a bit bored.

"I didn't ask where she was," he said tiredly, kneeling back down next to the cabinet. She blinked. So he was just as nasty as people said. Without another word, she glared at his back and tossed her frosty blonde hair over her shoulders, striding into the stairwell. He wasn't worth the bitterness, anyway. She should have known. He might be tired, but he wasn't going to become friendly overnight. What was he looking for, anyway? She decided it didn't matter and tossed her bag onto her four-poster, nodding her hello at Marianne Gleeson, who sat on the other end of the bedroom on her own bed.

Marianne had been her truest friend throughout her presence at Hogwarts. They'd met as first years and had kept in close touch during the war and while they were away from school. Now, as sixth years, they were closer than ever. But Marianne had been keeping something from her for the last few months. Three months, actually. Since the beginning of summer. She'd said she wanted to tell her in person.

"Are you going to tell me your big secret, then?" she said sarcastically, jumping onto her bed and pulling her hair to one shoulder to begin a braid. Marianne fought back a grin, pulling her blanket up to her shoulders and hurriedly putting her book down on the bedspread.

"Yes, now I will. You have to promise to believe me, though." Astoria shot her a questioning smile. Marianne took a deep breath, blushing crimson red. Astoria's eyes widened slightly. "It's a boy. Who is it?! Is he in our year?" Marianne blushed even more deeply, laughing nervously.

"You know me too well. God! _Promise_ you'll believe me when I say." Astoria rolled her eyes.

"I'll believe you. Tell me!" She'd been excited to know her friend's secret all summer, and she should have guessed it would be a boy. But who would be important enough to keep a secret for so long? Why wouldn't she just tell her in a letter?

"Alright, alright. He's not in our year. He's…" She trailed off, running a hand through her ink black hair.

"_Tell_ me!" Sometimes Marianne's shyness got on her nerves. She wondered occasionally how Marianne had even been sorted into Slytherin. She _was_ a pureblood, and from a long line of Slytherins. But they were best friends, for God's sake. There was no reason for all the secrecy.

"It's Draco! The one from—" She stopped abruptly, noticing her friend's expression. Astoria was shocked. It couldn't be. Draco Malfoy was with Marianne? It wasn't possible. Marianne was meek. And quiet. And not in the least bit suitable for someone with such a dark, dangerous past. His father was in prison, for God's sake.

"Draco Malfoy?" she asked in disbelief. "How? When? Marianne, are you sure that's really… good for you?" she was having a hard time finding the words to express what she meant without being cruel. She kicked herself when she saw the flash of hurt on her friend's face.

"Remember? My family hosted the Malfoys when Draco's father had business in Edinburgh. And when he went back… we sent letters. And he visited, once." Once again, Astoria was in disbelief. It didn't make sense. "He's really not who you thought, Astoria. He's kinder. The war changed him." She was dubious. Just five minutes ago she'd run into him and he was as rude as ever. She never understood why her sister spent time with him. He was _awful_.

"Are you really sure about that?" asked Astoria, raising a pale brow at her.

"I'm completely sure." Marianne was earnest; she could tell. But there was no convincing Astoria. She'd heard enough from Daphne to know just who Draco was, and there was no way this relationship was what Marianne thought. He had to have been using her. Something felt horribly off about it all.

It wasn't until breakfast the following morning that Astoria received proof of her friend's relationship. She was happily digging into her potatoes at the Slytherin table when Draco slid onto the bench on her friend's opposite side. Marianne jumped, dropping her fork and blushing once again as his arm snuck around her waist. Astoria frowned down at his hand and watched as he pressed his lips to her friend's temple, his eyes awkwardly meeting hers for a moment. Despite herself, her stomach dropped. There was a perpetual coldness to his gaze. How could Marianne have missed that?

"Good morning," said Marianne quietly, fighting back a grin. Astoria nodded at him, looking away.

"Morning, love," said Draco. He seemed distinctly less exhausted than he had the night before. He began reaching for the scrambled eggs when Marianne found her voice again.

"Er, Draco. This is Astoria. Your friend Daphne's sister," she said quickly, smiling brightly at him. Draco glanced at her.

"We met last night." Astoria watched for some kind of hint about how he felt about Marianne. The way he looked at her, perhaps. But he was just spooning eggs into his plate, unreadable.

"Right. Briefly," added Astoria, her eyes still fixed on Draco. He looked up at her again, feeling her stare.

"Problem?" Once again, a chill flickered down her spine. There was absolutely no way he was actually interested in Marianne. He just wasn't the right sort of boy for her friend. Aside from that, he was older, and when he looked at Astoria the nervousness that formed in the pit of her stomach was impossible to deny. He was just generally unsettling. Once again, she questioned how Marianne could look past that. She wanted to say that yes, there was a problem – he was up to something, and she knew it.

"Of course not," was what she said instead. For good measure, she fixed him with an ice cold smile. He raised a brow at her as Marianne leaned across the table to grab a glass bottle of maple syrup. To her surprise, he returned her mirthless grin. Marianne, oblivious, smothered her pancakes in syrup and sighed.

"I'm glad you already know each other. I didn't tell Astoria about us until yesterday," she said. Astoria noticed how quickly her friend spoke now that Draco was around. So after three months of being together she still got nervous. It would have been endearing if Draco wasn't so obviously a predator. "We're best friends," continued Marianne, beaming at Astoria. She made him so happy. Astoria wanted to gag. Her concern for her friend was growing stronger by the second. Draco looked as if he was about to say something when Astoria spoke up.

"I just remembered; I've got to get to something. I'll see you later, Annie." She flashed a quick smile and pushed her plate forward before standing up and exiting the Great Hall as quickly as possible. Marianne blinked after her, perplexed. Astoria hadn't mentioned having anything to do that morning. Classes didn't even start until the following week.

"I don't think she likes me," mumbled Draco, leaning close to Marianne's ear. His growling voice made her shiver, a slow smile replacing her confused expression. But when what he'd said actually sunk in, she became worried once again. If Astoria didn't like Draco, things would be complicated when she tried to divide her time between the two of them. She'd hoped they could all go to Hogsmeade together before classes started, but if they didn't get along…

She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind and focus on her boyfriend and her breakfast, but Draco didn't miss the concern in her eyes. Marianne was simple, and easy to read – that was what he liked about her. She was easy to be close to and easy to understand. It was obvious to him that she was worried about her friend not getting along with him.

There was something odd about the friend, anyway. She'd given him a curious look that morning, as if she'd seen right through him. Had she, really? He intended to find out. The last thing he needed was Marianne's friend turning her against him.


	2. Chapter 2

**| |- Born of Faith - | |**

**[ 2 ] **

A long while went by with no word from Astoria. Granted, Marianne hadn't really looked for her since she was busy curled up next to Draco in a corner of the library reading a book of fairy tales, but it felt strange to go through their whole first day back at school without spending time together. Still, she was distracted. He was warm, and his chest was perfect to rest her head against. If she concentrated, she could hear his heartbeat. Or was that her own?

It wasn't until the day was halfway over when Draco shut his book, prompting her to look up from hers.

"Shall we go back to the common room?" he drawled, his voice a bit raspy from disuse. They'd spend hours there in silence and Marianne nodded drowsily before reluctantly pushing herself off him, stretching her arms over her head.

"How long have we been here?" she asked, noticing him watching her. She smiled at him. It was still strange being able to see him like this – over the summer they'd communicated entirely through letters save for his one, three-day-long visit. She sighed happily, thinking of how she'd be able to spend all year with him now.

"Dunno. Might be around four now," he said, glancing out one of the high, narrow windows and returning her grin. She was adorable, with her brown straight-across fringe and wrinkled button-down. She yawned.

"I should find Astoria," she said, the same concern from earlier causing her brows to knit slightly. "She might be wondering where I am." As she said it, she realized that probably wasn't true. Astoria wasn't the type to wonder about anyone, really. But the strangeness of not seeing her friend all day was just too much to bear, especially now that Draco had suggested they head back anyway.

"She's the one who hates me, isn't she?" Draco knew exactly who she was, but he wanted to remind Marianne that he knew her friend didn't like him. He hoped it would help discredit any negative opinions of him she attempted to convolute his girlfriend's mind with.

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you!" replied Marianne, once again aware that what she was saying wasn't true. Astoria did seem to have something against him.

The two of them made their way back to the common room in silence. Once, their hands brushed against each other and Marianne instinctively drew hers closer to her side, blushing slightly. Draco couldn't resist a bemused smile as he reached out toward her, grabbing her hand anyway. She fought back a smile as her hand instinctively clutched his, swinging slightly.

When they entered the common room, Marianna quickly scanned the sofas for any sign of her friend. Of course, she was missing. Draco quickly kissed her goodbye before turning to the boys' dormitory stairwell. Before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Dinner, then?" Marianne grinned again and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I might…" she trailed off, hating having to turn him down. "I might eat with Astoria. You know, since we haven't seen each other in so long." Draco pursed his lips and glanced at the stone floor momentarily.

"Fine, then. Alright." He turned on his heel then and disappeared into the stairwell, leaving Marianne staring after him for a moment. She knew better than to spend all her time with him when she knew Astoria hadn't seen her in months. Feeling guilty for being tempted to forget her friend and have dinner with him anyway, she walked into her own dorm room to look for her. She wasn't surprised to see that Astoria wasn't there. However, her bed was made, and her messenger bag and boots were both gone. She wouldn't have needed the boots unless she were going out. So Astoria probably wasn't even in the castle.

Sighing, she curled up on her own bed and pulled the fleece blanket over her. Though it was mid-day, she was still drowsy from reading in the library. Eventually, she drifted into sleep.

In the opposite set of dorms, Draco angrily tossed his tie onto the bed. It was already happening. Astoria was already pulling Marianne away from him. Sure, Marianne hadn't seen her friend in months. But she hadn't seen him, her _boyfriend_, for just as much time. He'd only visited for a short time, anyway. So didn't he have as much right to her time as Astoria did? Annoyed, he switched his robe for a blazer and marched back down the stairwell. Blaise had insisted on meeting at the Three Broomsticks today to celebrate their return to school. Though he hardly considered it a thing to be celebrated, he hadn't had a butterbeer in months.

Outside, leaves crunched under his feet with every step. Autumn had certainly snuck up on him. He hadn't even noticed when the leaves started falling, and now here they all were on the ground. When he rounded the corner and entered the dimly-lit pub, the smell of grilled meat and alcohol filled him with nostalgia. It had been too long. Before everything had gotten complicated with the War and the Dark Lord's orders, this had been one of his favorite places. Afterward, he hadn't much enjoyed anything. He shoved the memories of his innocence from his mind. He might be tainted from the War, but he was free to enjoy the things he used to love again without the weight of anxiety.

Blaise wasn't there yet, so he took a seat at the bar, ordering himself a glass of Quintin Black to sip on while he waited. It wasn't until he'd taken his first swig of the remarkably smooth drink that he noticed a flash of straight blonde hair two seats down from him, covered by the grey hood of the girl's coat. He recognized that hair. This was absolutely an opportunity, he decided.

"Astoria," he said evenly. She didn't look up right away, instead finishing the paragraph she was reading in her book and slowly putting it down first. She then pushed her hood off her head.

"Yes?" she asked, a cold smile spread across her lips. He took another sip, staring at her over the edge of his glass. For someone so frigid, she had warm eyes. They were a sort of mellow, medium brown.

"Is there any particular reason why you seem to hate me, or is it just that you dislike anyone your friend is interested in?" He figured it was best to get to the point. He took another sip of the Quintin and put it slowly down on the bar, still staring at her. Not surprisingly, her eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Let's just say the only one of us who's deluded about your nature is Marianne." She wasn't about to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. She was going to lay it out, crystal clear. Draco shot her a curious look, careful to maintain his composure. Insulting her back wasn't going to get him very far – if he managed to give Astoria a reason to speak badly of him, Marianne was as good as lost.

"Really? And what's my nature?" He did his best to sound casual. She scoffed.

"Please. You're a git." He blinked at her, watching as her attention was diverted. She quickly ordered a Firewhiskey and flashed him another cold smile before looking away again, as if trying to end the conversation there.

It didn't quite hurt, but there was something peculiar and saddening about having a near-stranger express a negative opinion of him to his face. There was a time when he may have been angered. There was even a time when he may have been delighted. His mind flashed to his early years at Hogwarts, when he prided himself in knowing the Gryffindors hated him for his consistent rude jibes and overall nastiness. In retrospect, it all felt… juvenile. But here he was, bound to it. Could he deny that he tended to revert to rudeness sometimes, still? Absolutely not. So there was even a good reason for someone like Astoria, two years his junior, to hate him. It was his reputation. And as long as he lived it, it lived in him.

She was happily sipping on her drink now, and he wondered idly who she was waiting for. Or was she just here alone? And where was Blaise, for that matter? Her flaxen hair fell between them, shrouding her as she leaned forward to tip the glass to her lips. It was surreal, knowing she hated him without him really doing anything to deserve it. She was just sitting there, two seats away, and she hated him. She didn't know the first thing about him. He absently eyed her boots, which laced up to just above her knee.

Instantly, his mind bounced back to his girlfriend. If he didn't at least pretend he was a genuinely kind person, he'd lose her. She was the least chaotic part of his life, and he couldn't afford to lose that. He rolled his eyes and bit back his pride before taking another sip of the Quintin and speaking once more.

"Alright, I'm a git. But I'm not a git to your friend, so that counts for something." She seemed surprised that he was still speaking.

"But you're a git to me, so I have every right to dislike you." She was getting annoyed with all this conflict. Marianne would be weeping if she were here, she thought absently. Draco's jaw tensed a bit, but he maintained his composure otherwise.

"And if I weren't?"

"If you weren't what?"

"If I weren't a git to you." The smirk on his face was one she'd seen before, in passing. She saw it when he spoke to her sister across the Great Hall, and to Pansy Parkinson, and when he'd greeted Marianne that day at breakfast. It was markedly flirtatious. Seething, she flashed her own sneer. She knew her own was far less inviting than his.

"We're speaking hypothetically, right? Since that could never occur in the real world." Her ice-cold expression melted slightly into surprise when she heard him speak to the bartender again. The middle-aged man disappeared into the kitchen and in seconds, there was a slice of molten chocolate cake in front of her. "You're bribing me!" she said, unable to resist a dry laugh.

"Consider it a peace offering," he said smoothly, taking another sip of his drink. She laughed once again and took a bite, feeling foolish. As he watched her, he flashed a toothy grin – one that said he knew he'd won.

"Alright, truce." He looked absolutely self-satisfied as he leaned over the bar and grabbed a fork, taking a bite for himself. "For now," she added, not wanting to give up too soon. So Draco wasn't so bad. A bit frosty around the edges, but wasn't she, as well? She still couldn't trust him, but as long as they were on good terms she could gauge him from a closer perspective as opposed to just from the short encounters they'd had thus far.

"Ah, you've bought cake!" Blaise Zabini slipped onto the barstool between them, his arm slithering around Astoria's waist as he leaned toward her to kiss her temple, much like Draco had kissed Marianne's in the morning. "Good to see you, Malfoy," he said, shaking his friend's hand. He'd already ordered a Firewhiskey before Draco had a chance to speak.

"Blaise. You know Astoria." The girl was stunned. She'd known Blaise and Draco knew each other, but they seemed much closer than Blaise had let on when they'd started spending time together over the summer. Blaise's mum, recently widowed once again, was a close friend of Astoria's mother. This year, when she'd visited, she'd brought her son with her.

"You know Malfoy," echoed Astoria, blinking at Blaise. He flashed her the same toothy grin Draco had earlier, but his was distinctively more mischievous.

"'Course love. I mentioned that." He tapped her once on the nose before stealing her fork to take a bite of the cake and turning back to Draco. "We didn't talk all summer, did we? I spent half the summer at the Greengrass'." He tugged her barstool closer, making her stiffen in surprise, before possessively tossing his arm over her shoulder. She smirked again, entertained at the way he explained things so vaguely.

The truth was, she was fairly certain they were more than friends at this point.

She glanced up at Draco, who didn't miss the new glint in her eyes now that Blaise was here. Beneath Draco's usual even, frosty expression, he was looking at them oddly, as if trying to figure out just what he was seeing. Of course, he was trying to fill in the blanks of Blaise's minimal explanation. The confused boy nodded slowly and changed the subject.

"This year's going to be dull," he said blithely, in classic Draco fashion. Forever sulking.

"I'm not so sure. Heard you're with that fifth year." Blaise turned to Astoria. "Marianne? Your friend?"

"Yes, my friend," she said. "You'll meet her soon enough." Over his friend's shoulder, Draco couldn't help but notice the way she spoke to Blaise. As if she were saying more than the words that escaped her lips. The warmth in her eyes turned to something more. She took a slow sip of her drink, the same heaviness still lingering between her and his friend. Sure, he and Blaise weren't extremely close, but he would have expected to know if he'd had a girlfriend. But this didn't seem quite like that.

Astoria could tell he was trying to gauge their relationship. Her heart skipped a beat as Blaise's fingers fiddled with the ends of her hair as his arm rested across her shoulders. Draco could wonder all he wanted. If there was one thing she loved, it was when people had to wonder about her.


	3. Chapter 3

| |- Born of Faith - | |

[3]

It was well past eight o'clock, and Draco was vaguely aware of the fact that all three of them had missed dinner. Aside from that, they were still at the Three Broomsticks, several empty glasses in front of each of them.

"God, we need to go back," said Blaise, laughing a bit. Astoria hiccupped, nodding.

"Day drinking on our first day back; God!" She had a hard time getting the words out. For some reason, this seemed extremely funny to the two of them, who burst into drunken laughter. When they were done, Blaise shoved himself to his feet, holding onto the bar.

"A'right, I'm not too drunk." He offered his hand to Astoria, who giggled and took it. Somehow, she found herself standing as well.

"I'm just going to sit here for a while," said Draco, his head in his hands. He felt sick to his stomach, and he was sure he must look a bit green.

"You sure, Malfoy?" slurred Blaise, tossing his fringe a bit and revealing the telltale blush of intoxication on his cheeks.

"Sure. Definitely. Go on," said Draco, idly swirling a nearly-empty glass of Quintin. There was no way he would finish it, he thought. He glanced back at the two of them, his eyes lingering on Astoria's boots once again. She shouldn't be allowed to dress like that, he thought, dragging his gaze away from the slivers of skin between her boots and tartan uniform skirt.

"Alright. See you later, then. Lightweight," replied Blaise. Draco ignored the jibe, instead focusing on keeping the contents of his stomach where they were. Astoria instinctively put her arm around Blaise's and the two of them stumbled outside into the cold autumn air. As the chill shuddered through her, she pushed herself closer to him. They were barely ten paces out of the pub when he pulled her into the alley on its side, snaking his arms around her and pulling her close to him. She sighed happily as he leaned down to gently kiss her cheek. He smelled like smoke and some delicious cologne she could never identify.

"Did you see the way he looked at you?" he murmured, making her heart drop. Immediately, she knew something was wrong.

"S-sorry?" she stuttered, trying to pull away from him. He only held her even more tightly.

"Why were you sharing cake with him, Astoria?" he asked. This time, the threatening edge to his voice was obvious. Instantly, she felt herself withdrawing. It was happening again. "I know you're hiding something."

"Blaise, let me go," she said quietly, hating how desperate she sounded. She had to resist pulling her wand on him. If she hexed him now he'd never forgive her. "Please." He didn't reply. Instead, his breath warmed her ear, even exhales only terrifying her further. "He's with Marianne. It isn't… I don't even know him," she explained quickly, struggling to get the words out of her mouth. Suddenly, she felt as if she hadn't been drunk at all.

Thankfully, the alcohol still numbed the pain she would have felt when he shoved her roughly into the wall. Her head knocked loudly against the grey stone, making her vision jolt momentarily. By the time her eyes adjusted again, he was barely an inch away from her. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "Blaise, please," she murmured, resisting tears. It was so much harder not to cry when she was drunk.

"Don't 'please' me. You can't _share cake_ with him!" he shouted, making her wince.

Draco was just leaving the pub when he heard his friend's shout, but the words were difficult to make out. Still feeling queasy, he thought he might have been imagining it. But when he walked past the alley, a flash of blonde caught his eye. He froze, taking a step back and hoping neither of them had seen him.

"I won't do it again Blaise please don't—" She was speaking quickly but froze when Blaise shifted slightly, wincing. When she realized he hadn't hurt her, she continued. "It won't happen again, I swear. I'm not hiding—"

She heard the crack before she felt it, the alcohol once again dulling her senses. It was a slow, flowering pain in her left cheek. Humiliated, a tear slipped from her eye.

"Don't you dare lie to me," he hissed, leaning down to look her in the eye. She wanted to tell him he was drunk, and that he shouldn't do this, but it was too late. He pulled her forward and shoved her back against the stone, knocking the wind out of her, before slapping her again. Feeling helpless, she whimpered, hoping no one could see them. The sun wasn't completely down yet.

Beyond the mouth of the alleyway, Draco dry heaved aggressively, falling onto the dirt pathway in front of the pub. His mind could barely register what he'd seen – Blaise was _beating_ her. He never would have predicted his friend was capable of that. He'd always acted as if he was on such high moral ground, chiding Draco for his father's status as a Death Eater and showing no respect for the Dark Lord or his followers.

Horrified, he pulled himself to his feet. He knew he had to get away from there before one of them saw him. Instead of moving, however, he stayed frozen in place. His mind raced. There was something dramatically disconcerting about seeing his friend do this to a girl. The rational part of his brain tried desperately to figure out what was bothering him about it so much – it was none of his business. If Blaise wanted to beat his girlfriend, that was his business.

But the way she'd winced when she thought he would strike her…

His drunken thoughts were all jumbled together, crashing into each other and trailing off. All he could do was continue to listen.

"Tell me you saw how he looked at you," said Blaise, grabbing a handful of her hair to force her to look up at him. She gasped as the pain flickered through her scalp.

"I saw how he looked at me," she said quickly, wanting him to release her as soon as possible.

"Are you going to lie to me again?" He was still slurring. Draco bent over and dry heaved again as quietly as he could, amazed that he wasn't actually vomiting. This was about _him?_ Immediately, Marianne was on his mind again. Blaise knew he was with someone. Why would he even…

It didn't make any sense. He stood back up, watching them somberly. If he walked by, Blaise would see him. There was no other way back to the castle. He had to wait until they left.

"I won't lie to you again. I promise," she said, reassuring him. Blaise glared at her, still drunk, before releasing her hair. It was then that Astoria saw Draco's pale blue eye watching from around the corner of the alley. Immediately, she looked away. If Blaise saw him now… She didn't want to think of what would happen. He'd become even more angry, and she knew she could deal with that right now.

Draco dipped instinctively further into the shadow, knowing she'd seen him. He cursed himself for his stupidity.

Blaise grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer to where Draco was standing. He scrambled further backward, safely concealed closer to the pub. It was like a dream, watching him drag her all the way down the path. Her hand kept floating up to the back of her head, rubbing delicately against the part of her skull he imagined hurt the most. They didn't say a word. He frowned, remembering the way he'd pulled her closer to him and put his arm around her. It didn't make sense. _This_ was what went on behind the scenes? How long had it been going on?

It wasn't until they were nearly around the path's bend when she dared a glance over her shoulder, her breath creating a little cloud in the frigid air. She knew exactly where to look for him, knowing he'd just taken a few steps back from the edge of the alley. He froze, inadvertently catching her eye.

And she looked terrified.

He didn't know what to make of it. Was she begging him not to tell anyone? Surely she wasn't asking him for _help._ She didn't like him.

Then again, she'd just been beaten by a close friend of his.

He rubbed the back of his neck, still dizzy. Idly, he wished he were dreaming. His girlfriend's best friend was in some kind of abusive relationship. Did anyone else know? Was there anything he could do?

Immediately, he stopped himself. No. There was nothing he could do, and he couldn't afford to get involved in this disaster. Astoria probably didn't want anyone else to know about this, so he wouldn't say anything. The War had taken enough of a toll on him – this was not something he needed to deal with right now. If Astoria told Marianne, she could help her friend. It was none of his business. Besides, Astoria seemed like a smart girl. She would get out of it soon enough. It probably hadn't been going on for very long.

Satisfied and sure they were far enough along the path for him to begin walking after them, he started moving.

Astoria was shaken, to say the least. When they arrived back at the castle, Blaise dragged her into the common room and finally released her hand, looking pensively out the window at the water. The sensation of withdrawing into herself seemed like it would never go away. Desperately, she wanted to escape to her room and hide under her blanket for the night until the redness in her face went away, but she knew it would only make him angrier.

But when he looked back at her, he didn't seem so angry anymore. On the contrary, he seemed… unhappy. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling his fringe back momentarily and exposing his high cheekbones. In the back of her mind, Astoria was once again struck by his stunning good looks. God, it really was the best of both worlds with him. She looked away when his gaze floated back to her face.

"Astoria…" he started, looking rueful. She didn't say anything. "Look, I'm sorry. I just got a bit… jealous." He seemed to be having a hard time getting the words out. She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to look back at him.

"It's alright," she replied emptily.

"It isn't; I'm sorry." He was on the verge of tears. It had to be the alcohol; the Blaise she knew didn't cry. But he did apologize. He always apologized.

"I told you. It's alright," she repeated, more quietly. Every time this happened she would shut down emotionally. Getting her voice out seemed like a great feat. Blaise sighed, running his hand through his hair once again.

"I'll make it up to you. I will. Astoria." He came close to her, about to reach out to tilt her head toward him, but she instinctively flinched away. A silent moment passed and she dared a glance up at him. When they made eye contact, he continued. "I love you."

It had been three months now since he'd professed his love for her. Yet she still wasn't his girlfriend, and he kept losing his temper. It didn't make sense. But when she saw the sincerity in his wet, dark eyes, it was difficult to keep her heart from melting slightly. He _was_ sincere. There was absolutely no lie in that look.

"I love you," she whispered back, looking at the floor. She flinched again when he leaned down to kiss her forehead, holding his lips to her head for a few moments.

"I'll make it up to you." She nodded slightly and waited as he disappeared into the stairwell, stumbling slightly halfway up. It wasn't until he was out of sight that she realized her heart was racing wildly. Her vision tilted slightly and she grabbed the back of the sofa behind her to steady herself, suddenly dizzy. It felt like a headrush. Somehow, she managed to make her way to the other side of the sofa and curled up, thankful that there was no one else in the common room. Someone might see the red marks on her face. Her hand floated up to the back of her head once again, pushing against the tender place where it had hit the stone wall. It still stung with just the slightest bit of pressure.

There was a creak as a door opened behind her. Someone had walked in. Her breath caught. Steady footsteps made their way from the entrance of the common room to the stairwells, and then disappeared up the boys' dormitory stairs, just as Blaise had. She relaxed once again, closing her eyes. Soon, she planned, she would get up and find her bed. But for now… the couch felt perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter; I had a lot of fun writing it. Please please please please please please please review! I really love feedback. And I'm always curious to hear what readers are thinking. Thanks so much! ^.^**

**| |- Born of Faith - | |**

**[4]**

She was just about to doze off when the door opened again. This time, the footsteps were less steady, as if the person was hesitant to come inside. Once, she heard something crash by the fireplace. She would have tensed up if she hadn't nearly been asleep – the sounds felt distant and dreamlike.

It was the sofa jolting with weight that woke her up immediately. Her eyes snapped open and the dim light of the room hit her like a sledgehammer, despite its sparseness.

"Oh." Draco, still very drunk, hadn't noticed someone was sleeping on the couch. "Don't you have a bed to sleep in?" he sneered, his words slightly slurred together. When Astoria groggily looked up, he wished he could take back his words. He hadn't seen who it was. Dumbfounded, he stared at her awkwardly before averting his eyes to the wall. Maybe if he just pretended he hadn't just said something rude it would disappear or something.

"You're really a git," she murmured, once again rubbing her head absently before sitting up. Did he really have to be so awful? Hadn't he just seen Blaise physically hurt her? She didn't need to be kicked while she was down. He was heartless, she decided. Instinctively, he began to apologize.

"Sorry, I—"

"Yes, thanks, that's the second meaningless apology I've gotten today," she said angrily as she pulled herself to her feet, the room still spinning. She wasn't sure how she managed to get to the base of the stairwell, but when she looked up into it she had to resist groaning and giving up then and there. Climbing up all those steps right now felt impossible.

Draco didn't know what to say. He wasn't in the habit of apologizing in the first place, and when his apology was shut down he wasn't sure what to do. He'd already decided he wasn't going to say anything about what he'd seen in the alley.

"Just stay on the sofa if you want," he said, trying to sound casual. Instead, he sounded tired. Astoria sighed, turning around slowly. Though the light was dim at best, he couldn't help but wince a bit when he saw her face. A large bruise was beginning to form on her cheek. Her face fell when she noticed his expression.

"Is it bad?" she asked quietly, letting her hair fall over her face slightly. There was no harm in asking. He already knew, after all. Draco wasn't sure how to reply.

"Not too bad," he said, unable to keep himself from gaping. She pursed her lips, sitting down on the step in defeat. She didn't even want to walk back to the sofa. It was too much work.

"You're lying," she sighed, leaning her head against the wall.

"I wasn't going to bring it up," he said, trying to maintain some level of tact. This wasn't some mudblood girl he could taunt or push around, really. She was a Slytherin, like himself, and a pureblood as well. He just had to keep reminding himself that she deserved his respect.

She didn't reply. Instead, she closed her eyes, letting the coolness of the stone wall soothe her headache. It wasn't too late at night, but thanks to the alcohol, she felt as if she hadn't slept in weeks. "Really; just sit here," he said, an unexplainable guilt creeping up on him. She looked defeated.

"It's fine. My head hurts." He resisted the temptation to point out the contradiction of the two statements. Instead, he mentally shrugged, resting his head on the back of the sofa. "You really drank too much, didn't you?" He was too groggy to lift his head up again.

"Still very drunk."

"I can see that. Lightweight." He glared at the ceiling.

"Does the alcohol help at least? Or does it still hurt when he shoves your head into a wall?" Astoria's eyes snapped back open, her heart dropping at his words. She was too stunned to speak. Draco, meanwhile, immediately wished he could take back his words. Ripping apart everyone around him was a nasty habit. "God. Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't bother," she spat. "You're so awful. The only thing your last year here proved is that you're not a murderer. Congratulations; you're still bloody awful and you don't deserve anyone's kindness."

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could block it out. Block himself out, that is. When had he become so combative? Why had he _said_ that?

"Look, it's a reflex," he said slowly, feeling foolish.

"I didn't ask for an excuse. Just shut up."

"Astoria, I'm sorry." She didn't say anything, letting his apology hover between them. She couldn't accept that right now, but he at least sounded more sincere than he had before.

A few minutes passed as the two of them sat there, stewing in their intoxication. Astoria drifted in and out of unconsciousness, feeling like she'd been hit by a truck every time she woke. Draco pondered his foul temperament and how much it bothered him now. Had he changed on the inside? Was that why he felt sorry now for the things he said? Or had he just gotten so rude that he couldn't accept it anymore?

"When did you start dating him?" he asked suddenly, wanting to escape from his reverie. Astoria was surprised that he dared to speak to her again, but if a conversation could keep her awake, she would reply.

"We aren't dating."

"When did you start doing whatever you're doing?" he rephrased, genuinely curious. She sighed.

"Over the summer. He stayed the rest of the summer after his mum left."

"Oh." He paused, pondering this. He hadn't talked to Blaise much over the summer. So it made sense, really, that he didn't know about it. "Has he always…?" He trailed off, kicking himself for asking.

"Not at the beginning," she said monotonously. There was a hint of sadness beneath her words. He sighed, more questions popping into his mind. When had he started hurting her, then? Why did she put up with it? He knew better than to ask.

"Ah, I'm sorry," he started again, awkwardly. "He was upset about me."

"You heard that?" she asked, her eyes opening again momentarily. He didn't reply. "It's fine. It's him. You weren't really looking at me."

"I was." He squeezed his eyes shut again. Whatever the right thing to say was, _that_ was absolutely not it. Astoria blinked, sitting up slightly to look at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Just the shoes—" This was getting absurd. He couldn't control what was coming out of his mouth anymore. Silently, he cursed himself for drinking so much and threw his arm over the back of the sofa in defeat, unaware that she was watching him.

"_What?_"

"Never mind," he mumbled.

"I'm Annie's best friend. Her _best friend!"_ She stood up, fuming. After steadying herself, she managed to march over to where he was splayed out on the sofa, standing before him. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" she demanded. He peered at her, unmoving. She was breathing heavily, her lips slightly parted. "I knew you were horrible for her. I'm going to tell her. I'll go upstairs and tell her right now." God, her hair was a disaster. And her eyes lit right up when she was angry. "You spy on me and Blaise, taunt me about it, and then admit to gawking at me while you're dating _my best friend!_" His eyes floated down to her hands, which were balled into fists. And next to her hands were the tops of those blasted boots.

He looked back up at her eyes, which were glaring daggers. What he did next was inexplicable. In retrospect, he would blame it on some kind of deep-rooted instinct to sabotage his own life. He lifted his head up slightly and reached forward, wrapping his hand around her wrist to tug her down to his level. She stumbled, letting out a cry of surprise before his lips pressed tightly against hers. On the same instinct, his arms reached out to wrap around her and pull her further down, onto the sofa, with one hand carefully behind her head to save it from hitting the surface too roughly.

At first, she made a muffled sound of protest, pushing halfheartedly against his chest. But just a moment later, she kissed him back, her arms snaking around his neck. _No,_ she told herself, drawing in a sharp breath through her nose. _No,_ her conscience repeated as she groaned slightly. He was surprisingly gentle – his every movement was subtle, almost tentative. His fingers tangled in her hair were sending sparks down her spine. _God, no,_ she told herself, letting his tongue meet hers. He was so… careful.

It didn't last long. As if realizing what he was doing, he jumped away from her like she'd caught fire.

"Oh my God," he mumbled, resting his forehead in his hands and staring at the floor. What had he _done?_ She stared at the ceiling. The sound of the water outside the windows seemed strangely loud, suddenly. How could he have…? Marianne's boyfriend… _Draco Malfoy?_ Nothing made sense.

"Is that how you kiss her?" she spat, her eyes welling up with tears. After such a horrid night, the confusion was too much.

Abruptly, he stood, catching the armrest for a moment to find his balance. Slowly, he drew in a deep, cleansing breath before glancing over his shoulder at her. She was crying. Her face was still bruised. Her feet were on the floor, but she was still collapsed on the sofa, one hand resting helplessly on her midriff. He couldn't kick himself hard enough. This was a mistake.

A stunningly rewarding mistake, he noted, still feeling fire on his lips. He would have to teach himself to regret it. Before turning away from her to finally force himself up the steps, he met her eyes and uttered a single, loaded word.

"No."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hi everyone! I want to thank my reviewers for the glowing feedback. I'm so glad you all like the story so far. I think Astoria and Draco are going to make a very… interesting couple, lol.

| |- Born of Faith - | |

[5]

Eventually, Astoria dozed off on the sofa. It was barely past dawn when Blaise emerged from the boys' dormitory for an early morning run. When he noticed she was asleep, he approached her slowly, not wanting to disturb her too much. With the tip of his wand, he pushed the hair off her face. The bruises were a deep purple. He sighed and muttered a quick spell and watched as they disappeared. They weren't healed, only concealed. Now that his crime was hidden, he was free to exit the common room and begin his workout.

Astoria woke around noon. Those who had passed through the common room earlier had ignored her. When her eyes fluttered open, she silently thanked God that the water outside the windows limited the amount of light in the common room. Slowly, she sat up, pressing against her temples. It was difficult to tell if the headache was from the alcohol or the stone wall Blaise had shoved her into the night before.

Suddenly, the incident with Draco came crashing back to her. Marianne. She had to tell Marianne. God, he'd kissed her…

Maybe he didn't remember. He'd been even more drunk than her.

As if on cue, Marianne emerged from the girls' stairwell, stopping in her tracks when she saw her friend.

"Astoria! Where _were_ you? I wanted to have dinner with you but you never showed up." Astoria winced, her friend's voice intensifying her headache. Annie's lips formed a knowing smile. "Drinking on the first day back? Tsk tsk," she said, sitting on the edge of the sofa while Astoria cleared her throat.

"Right. Couldn't be helped," she said, her gaze trained deliberately on the stone floor. She couldn't bring herself to look her friend in the eye for the moment. After gathering herself, she managed to look up for a moment. "Just my own little welcome back party at the Three Broomsticks." She offered a smile, trying her best to look casual.

"By yourself?"

"Oh, no," she started, thinking carefully about what she would say next. "With Blaise. Zabini?" Marianne's eyes widened slightly.

"Are you…" She smiled again. "Is it how I think it is?" Astoria mirrored her knowing grin.

"Sort of. I'll explain later; I need a shower."

"Draco was there with Blaise too," said Marianne, looking a bit confused. "You were together?"

"Honestly, I didn't know he was going to be there. Blaise didn't tell me. We ended up leaving together before Malfoy." At least that wasn't a lie.

"Oh. Alright. I haven't seen Draco yet today, either." Astoria laughed dryly.

"He's awful with alcohol. Monumentally hung-over, no doubt." Marianne laughed as well and rolled her eyes.

"Of course he is. Well, get to your shower, then."

She stood up, pressing her temples again. Somehow, the headache wasn't as bad as it had been last night, after the incident in the alleyway. She would tell Marianne another time, but soon. It just didn't feel like the right moment yet.

"Oh, right," continued Marianne. "Before you go – I want you to come to Hogsmeade with Draco and me today, if you don't mind going two days in a row. Maybe for dinner, since it's already lunchtime. Is that alright?" Determination glinted in her eyes. Astoria knew Marianne was concerned that her friend didn't like her boyfriend. It was true – she didn't. But now her reasons were solid as gold. When Marianne saw Astoria's hesitation, her face fell a little. Astoria sighed. She'd already abandoned her friend at dinner the night before.

"Sure. I'll go," she said. It would be awkward, but she could bear it for now. She didn't have a choice. Marianne, satisfied, smiled warmly.

"Great. Glad to hear it. We'll leave together, then. Six o'clock?"

"Alright. That's fine," she said, plastering a smile across her face.

"You can bring Blaise!" she added. Astoria mulled it over. If she didn't bring Blaise, he might find out and get upset about her spending time with Draco without his knowledge. She wouldn't put it past him. He didn't seem to care that Draco was in an official relationship with Marianne. And really, she shouldn't either – it hadn't stopped him from kissing her.

"Good idea," she replied, smiling. "I'll ask him." It would make him happy. Maybe he'd even quit the violence. Maybe he'd ask her to be his girlfriend, formally. Eventually.

In the bathroom, she eyed her reflection. The bruises were gone. How was that possible? When she touched her face, it was still tender. Last time Blaise had hurt her, he'd put a spell on her to hide the bruises. Perhaps he'd done the same thing this time while she was asleep. God, if he hadn't… Marianne would have noticed. And then what would she have said? She couldn't help but feel thankful for his timing.

After her shower, she chose her outfit for the day carefully. The boots were definitely out. Instead, she wore white tights and black ankle boots. That was modest enough, right?

Still groggy, she made her way to the dining hall to enjoy a late lunch. Marianne was nowhere in sight – she'd probably eaten while Astoria was in the shower. Instead, Draco sat at the table by himself, picking idly at an omelet. Half of her wanted to turn around and starve, but it made more sense for her to talk to him before they inevitably ran into each other tonight. Resolute, she sat directly opposite him, glad to have at least showered and put makeup on. She didn't look hung over at all. On the other hand, Draco looked like he'd been hit by a truck.

"Annie wants us to go to Hogsmeade today." He didn't look at her, instead violently stabbing his omelet.

"Good morning," he muttered after a moment.

"I'm going to tell her what happened."

"Mm."

"You've _ruined_ your relationship. And you've practically broken her heart." Once again, he didn't reply at first.

"I was drunk. And she'll never believe you." He didn't want to look at her. What if he didn't feel horrible? What if he relived the memory? She was appalled. Not only did he remember, but he didn't even seem _guilty._

"You're a swine," she hissed, glaring.

"I've also got a massive headache. Can we have this conversation another time? Or not at all?" Finally, he forced a bite into his mouth and immediately washed it down with water.

"You mewling little prat. You don't even feel sorry. What's wrong with you?!" she demanded, feeling the same frustration from the night before. He was insufferable.

"Watch your mouth, Greengrass," he said angrily. "I made a bloody mistake. I was drunk. Tell her, and your friendship with her will be ruined before my relationship with her is ruined. But you probably know that." He looked exhausted, but that didn't stop him from glaring viciously at her. She returned the favor.

"I've known her far longer. She wouldn't trust you over me."

"Really? By all means, let's test that theory. She's in love with me," he said, smirking at her. He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't let her tell Marianne. At least this time his toxicity had a purpose.

"And are you in love with her?" asked Astoria, glaring.

"That's none of your concern," he said quickly. Once again, his mind wandered to the night before. "Your face healed up nicely. Overnight. How miraculous," he added with a sneer. She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to stoop to his level. He obviously _wasn't_ in love with her. It was even clearer after what he'd done last night.

"It's a charm," she said icily, careful not to mention that it was Blaise's handiwork. "Are you coming to Hogsmeade or not?" He picked up his fork again, cutting off a bit of the omelet.

"Of course. Whatever my lovely girlfriend wants, she shall have." Astoria rolled her eyes.

"Try and make yourself at least halfway presentable before then. You look like you died yesterday."

"Please. How good of a kisser do you think you are, Greengrass?" he asked with a snide laugh. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn't have even brought it up. Even drunk, she was an excellent kisser. Once again, he felt the same fire on his lips. Astoria flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile.

"You and I both know I'm an excellent kisser."

"Maybe that's how you keep Blaise so enthralled," he replied bitterly, taking a slow sip of his water.

"So you admit it?" Her breath almost caught when the words left her lips. What she _doing?_ She was being flirtatious – that was wrong. So _dreadfully_ wrong.

He didn't have a reply. With his fingers still loosely wrapped around his glass, he only stared at her with an expression that lay somewhere between unadulterated loathing and amusement. The desire to melt into the floor overtook her as she felt her heart rate speed up, remembering the way he'd tangled his hands in her hair. She nervously tossed her stick-straight locks over her shoulder. "I'm still going to tell her."

"Please do. Perhaps it'll push you out of the picture completely, and I can have her all to myself."

"Or perhaps she'll believe me and _you_ can disappear from the picture. Then she can find someone less awful to give her heart to."

"Pity you can't do the same," replied Draco smoothly. Her heart sank. Unlike his intoxicated counterpart, sober Draco didn't offer an apology. He only watched her face fall and felt a grim satisfaction in knowing he'd won. Especially after she'd cornered him with the "fabulous kisser" remark.

"Burn in Hell," she replied, abandoning him at the table. She couldn't deal with him. He was horrible. He was too horrible to even _talk_ to.

Back in the dormitories, she marched up the boys' stairwell and knocked on Blaise's door. Sighing, she remembered it was also Draco's door this year. That might be awkward later, she thought, waiting for him to answer the door.

"Astoria," he said with a grin. She smiled back as he leaned against the door frame.

"Hi. Marianne wants to go to Hogsmeade tonight – will you come?"

"Who else is going?" Subtly, she took a deep breath.

"Er, Malfoy is coming. They're together, so…"

"Are you asking me out on a double date, then?" She grinned a little, thanking God that he didn't react badly to hearing Draco's name.

"I might be," she said sweetly. The events of the previous night were long forgotten. This was the boy she loved, and he would come with her tonight. For the moment, that was all that mattered.

"Alright. I'll be there," he said, leaning down for a quick kiss. "But for now I've promised some fourth years drinks. I'll meet you in the common room?"

"Of course. Six o'clock." She flashed him one more smile before turning on her heel to trot down the stairwell. On the way down, Draco was just beginning his ascent. She deliberately shoved past him. Surprisingly, he remained silent, hesitating slightly on the steps while he regained his balance through his headache.

At five-thirty Marianne was happily preparing for her evening. Across the room, Astoria charmed her hair into large, billowing waves, but with much less enthusiasm than her friend. The anxiety of knowing Draco would be there had only magnified in the last few hours. She had to tell her. But for the time being, she was committed to keeping her secret.

"Does this look alright?" asked Annie, whirling around. Her dress was a royal blue which fell just above her knees.

"You look lovely," said Astoria with a smile. She would have to get used to lying.

"You ought to wear the boots," suggested her friend, eyeing Astoria's black jeans. She sighed quietly. There was a very pressing reason to never wear them again.

"I like these better," she replied, referring to her short ankle boots. She'd matched the jeans with a burgundy off-the-shoulder top. Hopefully it was the right balance of revealing and conservative and Blaise wouldn't have anything to complain about. More importantly, Malfoy wouldn't have anything to gawk at.

The two of them made their way down the stairs to an empty common room. Astoria could see the disappointment on her friend's face when she didn't see her boyfriend right away. What did she expect? It wasn't quite six yet. But just a few minutes later, with six o'clock sharp arrived Draco Malfoy. He was a git, but she was impressed with his punctuality. He nodded his hello at her before turning to Annie. Annoyed just at his presence, she tapped her foot impatiently and waited for Blaise. Several minutes went by.

"I'm going to go see where he is," she said, hating the thread of nervousness that crept into her voice.

"Who?" asked Draco.

"Blaise," she replied. Annie's back was turned to her so she took it upon herself to flash him a subtle glare.

"Lovely," he said. She caught the slight sarcastic note in his tone before storming up the stairs.

Tentatively, she knocked on the door. There was no reply. But he had to be inside, so she knocked again. Still no reply. Frowning, she gingerly turned the doorknob.

He was nowhere to be found.

Uneasiness welling up in her chest, she shut the door behind her only to find a familiar-looking boy in the hallway looking at her questioningly. Upon closer inspection, she realized he was drunk. Very drunk.

"You looking for Zabini?"

"Yes…" she said, growing increasingly nervous.

"Ah. He's out cold in my room at the moment." He tried to lean against a tall floor lamp at the end of the hallway and jumped slightly when it began to tip over. She would have laughed if she wasn't grim with the realization of what he was telling her. "I'll tell him you came by. Astoria, right?"

"Er, no," she said somberly. "No need to tell him. I'll come by again some other time." She couldn't escape the hallway fast enough. In the stairwell, she stopped to gather herself. There was no way she could go to Hogsmeade right now. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was go back to her room and stew in her misery. After a few short moments, she pulled herself together and strode confidently down the steps.

"Blaise is a bit busy," she started evenly. "And he can't come, and I'm really not feeling up to it anymore either, so I'll see you two later." A shaking, grotesquely fake smile spread instinctively across her face.

"Really? What's he gotten up to?" asked Draco casually. Somehow, he didn't sound surprised. Once again, Astoria was stunned that her friend missed his smug attitude. She remained completely oblivious.

"Is everything alright?" she asked earnestly.

"Last I saw him," continued Draco. "He was sharing drinks with fourth years."

"Two days in a row?" asked Annie, raising a brow at him. He shrugged. She wished she could inform her friend then and there of how smashed her beloved Draco had been the night before.

But more than that, she wanted to disappear. The embarrassment of being stood up was almost too much to handle, especially in front of him. Annie would only feel sorry for her, but Draco was self-satisfied and probably laughing at her in his mind. After the awful comments he'd made last night, she couldn't imagine him feeling any other way.

In reality, a tinge of pity had crept up in him. She really looked stunning with her hair curled, and she'd done it for Blaise. Once again, his expression kept his emotions well-concealed.

"Are you sure you don't want to come? I was hoping you would," added Annie. If she didn't go, she imagined Draco would be even more smug about it all. He stood slightly behind Marianne, staring down at her with that deplorable self-righteous expression. As if he had seen it coming. He was Blaise's roommate – in all honesty, he probably had. She managed a slightly more sincere smile.

"You're right; I promised. I'll come along," she said. Staying home simply wasn't worth sacrificing her pride. She would have to endure the trip. Blaise couldn't possibly be upset that she was going – he'd passed out drunk, for God's sake. She stepped in between the two of them and linked her arm with her friend's as they started exiting the common room, flashing an icy smile at Draco. Marianne, examining a tendril of her hair, completely missed Draco's unexpected reaction. Instead of reflecting Astoria's glare, his eyes dipped momentarily to her lips and bare shoulders. He realized what he was doing and looked away almost immediately, but not fast enough. She'd already seen. Despite herself, her heart fluttered wildly.

It was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

| |- Born of Faith - | |

[6]

The three of them decided to eat at the Hog's Head. It was a good enough choice – dining options in Hogsmeade were surprisingly limited. With her dinner, Astoria made sure to order a Quintin Black. Though she had no intention of getting drunk, the evening was going to drag horribly if she didn't at least get slightly buzzed.

"Drinking two days in a row – you and Blaise have more in common than I thought, Greengrass," said Draco. His tone suggested that he was poking casual fun. However, Astoria couldn't imagine him saying anything to her without truly malicious intent.

"I suppose you'd have a drink too if you hadn't gotten so wasted last night. Had enough for the week, have you?" Marianne laughed nervously, hoping her friend didn't mean any real harm. Aside from that, she didn't like to think of Draco getting extremely drunk.

"I prefer to exercise some restraint," he said nonchalantly. She wanted to roll her eyes.

"Well that's excellent to hear. Marianne needs someone dignified. Someone honorable, you know?" She at least managed some faux sincerity with this comment. Annie was confused, but pleasantly surprised.

"And that's exactly who I got!" she added with a loving grin at Draco. Astoria wanted to throw up.

Dinner passed in a blur as she tried to mentally block out seeing her friend and Draco together. They were a match made in the fiery depths of Hell, she decided. She chose to keep quiet for the majority of the evening for the sake of Annie's happiness. If she opened her mouth too often, she would surely end up saying something rude to him again.

"Does anyone want dessert? I'm a bit full," said Marianne when they were finally done eating. Before Astoria could reply, Draco spoke up.

"I think I'll have the chocolate cake." He ordered right away. "Astoria, would you mind splitting it with me?"

She was floored. He was actually doing this again. She was immediately reminded of his words from the night before. _Consider it a peace offering._

"I'm fine, thank you," she said robotically, plastering a smile on her face.

"I insist. Since Marianne is perpetually dieting." Annie laughed, taking another sip of her water.

"I'm _health-conscious,_" she said, turning red. Astoria could feel herself on the verge of a blush as well. He was quite clearly trying to make a second "peace offering". And if she rejected it too adamantly, Annie would think she was being rude. She didn't have the same excuse as her friend – Astoria never dieted. She'd just had the cake yesterday, she'd been drinking alcohol all evening, and she'd had fried chicken for dinner.

"I'll have a bit," she said, hating that she had to comply.

"Excellent." When the cake came, he split it in half and slid her side onto her plate.

"Thanks," she muttered, taking a tiny bite. Marianne sipped on her water, glad to see the two of them getting along.

It wasn't too late when they arrived back at the castle. Many students were still awake and the common room was fairly full. Marianne, however, wasn't in the habit of staying up late, and was also tired from her evening. Draco kissed her goodnight and she excused herself to get ready for bed, leaving Astoria downstairs for the time being. Immediately, she turned to him.

"Do _not_ buy me cake again," she hissed, not wanting anyone to overhear them.

"I'll do whatever I want, thanks," he replied, sounding bored.

"Is there a reason why you felt compelled to do that again? There is _no _peace between us, Malfoy." He was growing weary. Just having Astoria around made him tired – she absolutely refused to forget about the night before. Perhaps it would just take a few days. Then maybe she could focus on her demented relationship with Zabini and she'd leave him alone. The less he saw of her, the better. She was just an annoying distraction from the rest of his life, with her stupid flashy shoes.

"For God's sake, Astoria. Forget about what happened. We both have lives to live. Or at least, I do. Maybe you'd just prefer to fixate on me."

"Excuse me?" There she was – getting angry with him again. He noticed the way her lips pursed momentarily. "Do you even remember what happened? You kissed _me._"

He was glaring icily down at her when he realized something disturbing. The truth was, he would do it again. But if he did, it would definitely be the end of his relationship with Marianne. It really should have already been, but he'd lucked out for the last day or so. At least so far.

"And don't think I missed the way you—" She was going to mention the way he looked at her earlier that evening but stopped abruptly when he grabbed her arm. As discreetly as he could, he dragged her into the corridor outside the common room and pulled her into an alcove. "Let go of me, you swine!"

"I'd really prefer if you didn't alert the entire common room of my personal life. I'm going to tell you again: I was drunk. I made a mistake. _Drop it._" He still had her arm in his grip.

"Are you forgetting the part where I hated you before you snogged your girlfriend's best friend? I have every reason to hate you now, if I didn't before," she replied coolly, trying to maintain her composure with his body in such close proximity. Her heart dropped slightly when she noticed his gaze fall once again to her shoulders. "Unbelievable," she scoffed. "You're sober now; you don't have an excuse to be looking at me like that anymore. You know, Annie said the War changed you. She trusts you. I think you just took after your arse of a father," she finished acidly. Maybe that would give him a taste of his own medicine.

A pang of guilt slammed through her when she saw how his face fell. The glare she was so used to disappeared, replaced with a curious, faraway sort of look. He suddenly felt hollow – pervasively hollow.

"Malfoy, I… Sorry. I'm sorry," she stuttered, feeling foolish. In an instant, the glare was back.

"That's what you think, isn't it? Think you know my family? You don't know half of it." He drew closer to her, pulling his sleeve up slowly. Fear was obvious on her face, dancing in her eyes. She held his gaze, terrified to look down. "This scare you?" he hissed, holding his arm up to her. She drew in a quick breath as her eyes instinctively fixated on the branded skin. A clear red outline of the Mark was still visible, indicating Draco's status as an inactive Death Eater forevermore. It was grotesque. She was suddenly unable to look away, consumed by sick fascination. He noticed her nervousness and drew the cloth back over his arm, remembering Blaise suddenly. "Don't try to be me, Greengrass. You can never be me." He took a step back, leaning against the wall with a sigh.

She was speechless. She'd heard rumors that Draco bore the Dark Mark, but she'd never seen one for herself. It was horrifying. Even now, after Voldemort had been defeated, it still resonated evil. And it was clear to her now that he hated it. Somehow, she felt sorry for him. Had he never wanted it? Had he had a choice? Somehow, she'd always assumed he did. A quiet moment passed as she contemplated this. He dared a glance back at her and frowned, noticing the look on her face. She didn't look scared anymore. In fact, she looked… thoughtful.

"Has Annie seen it?" she asked quietly, staring at the floor. He scoffed.

"Of course not."

"Draco…" Her breath caught. It was the first time she'd addressed him by his first name. Nervous, she ran a hand through her hair. He raised a brow at her.

"It's 'Draco' now, is it?" That domineering smirk was back, she noticed. She rolled her eyes, kicking herself. "What? You think she ought to see?"

"_Malfoy._ I don't know. Maybe." _Maybe it'll scare her away,_ she thought coldly. The thought of Annie dating a former Death Eater was laughable, even if it was him. The whole of Slytherin House knew how Marianne felt about Voldemort and his followers. He scoffed again.

"I don't want her to see it." Somehow, that didn't surprise her.

"I can imagine why." He glared at her. "She might not want anything more to do with you," she said pointedly. Silence hovered between them as Draco realized he may have made another mistake.

"Don't you dare tell her," he said. There was a distinct threatening edge to his voice.

"Well maybe I won't tell her you kissed me but I can tell her you've got a Dark Mark…" mused Astoria, feigning thoughtfulness. Her mind was already made up. Just a moment later, Draco drew his wand. Reflexively, she drew hers as well. "What are you going to do? Make me forget?" Her heart raced. He could. He absolutely could.

"There's an idea," he said slowly, drawing closer to her. "I could make you forget everything. Problem solved, no?" She was about to disarm him when a familiar voice startled them both.

"Malfoy!" Headmistress McGonagall stood in the hallway. Draco's jaw tensed as he reluctantly put away his wand, stepping away from her. "Care to explain what you were about to do?" Astoria discreetly put her wand away as well.

"Not particularly," he replied evenly.

"This is not the type of behavior I expect to see from you when your prefect duties are reinstated, Mister Malfoy." For once, Draco was stunned. It was a long moment before he replied.

"Sorry?"

"You heard me, boy. Please refrain from assaulting your juniors."

"I'm not a prefect!" Draco said incredulously. He'd turned down the position in his sixth year to focus on his Death Eater duties.

"I trust you know Headmaster Dumbledore was aware of your reasons for rejecting the position. The majority of the staff seems to believe you are to be reinstated, by rights." She seemed to be implying that she did not belong to that majority. "You'll hear more about it when classes start. Good evening, Miss Greengrass." In a flurry of her midnight blue robes, she disappeared down the corridor. Astoria didn't speak until she had rounded the corner.

"That is _bollocks! _Does anyone around here even know who you _are _anymore?" Draco turned back toward her, his ego renewed by the Headmistress.

"You do," he said, grinning wickedly. She scowled at him and quickly drew her wand again.

"Ugh! _Impedimenta!_" she cried. A strong shove pushed Draco backward and out of Astoria's way. Annoyed, she stormed back into the common room and up the stairs. With the door safely slammed behind her, she finally returned her wand to its pocket and threw herself onto her bed, overcome with frustration. He'd been a Death Eater, he'd cheated on Annie, and yet somehow he was still going to be _prefect?_ It was utterly, depressingly unfair.

She glanced at her friend's sleeping form and her mind wandered back to the Dark Mark. She thought again of the look on his face as he pulled his sleeve back over it. Her heart filled with disdain as she realized it would be wrong of her to tell Annie. That was his secret, not hers. It was tempting and she knew it would drive her friend away from him, but something told her that Mark had put Draco through quite a bit already.

Perhaps she could just imply it. She wouldn't have to tell her outright. It could work, right?

Either way, she had every right to tell her about the kiss, since that involved her. But it seemed impossible. How could she even bring something like that up?

It didn't matter. It had to be done. She just had to wait for the right moment.

Draco, meanwhile, lingered at the bottom of the steps. The common room was significantly emptier now. He could easily go up the girls' stairs and erase Astoria's memories now if he wanted, but something kept his feet firmly planted where they were. He scowled to himself as he put his wand back in its pocket, trying to pinpoint what was holding him back.

It wasn't until hours later, as he tried to fall asleep, that he figured out what it was. Someone knew. He recalled her contemplative expression after seeing the Dark Mark. She hadn't insulted him for it. She'd actually used his first name by accident. What did that mean? It was far-fetched, but to him it felt as if there might be a possibility that she understood. Maybe she sympathized. No matter what it was, she didn't hate him for it, and that brought him some comfort. If he erased her memories… that comfort would disappear.

_Marianne would hate you for it._

He hadn't told her for a reason. When she asked questions about the War, he never revealed the complete truth – that he'd been trapped, and afraid, and a true Death Eater. He didn't tell her about how he'd been downright suicidal at some points, sparing himself only because he knew Voldemort would punish his family if he ended his own life. Sometimes he even lied, saying he hated his father for bearing the Mark and taking Voldemort's side so completely. He knew that if he revealed himself, she would be disgusted. Marianne may have been sweet, but she had no sympathy for Death Eaters. She'd expressed that to him and others many times.

And though she thought she loved him, he knew the truth. Marianne had an image of him in her mind that wasn't real, and if that image cracked away she would leave him in a heartbeat. She could never see him for what he really was. Her family had stoutly opposed the Dark Lord's cause. If she knew…

"_Does anyone around here even know who you _are_ anymore?"_

"_You do."_

He sighed, staring somberly into the darkness. A growing suspicion that he'd made a bigger mistake than he'd thought lingered in his mind as he tried, once again, to fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

| |- Born of Faith - | |

[7]

Classes started the following Monday, and, as the Headmistress had predicted, Draco was reinstated as prefect. Though this came as no surprise to Astoria, Marianne was thrilled, and spent more and more time talking about how accomplished he was. Astoria often found herself turning her out.

"I wonder who the prefects from our years will be," mused Annie, breaking her constant stream of Draco praise for the time being.

"Dunno. Is Parkinson still one?" They were eating lunch in between Potions and Charms, which they shared with the Ravenclaws.

"Yes, she and Draco got their badges together. But when do they pick the fifth year ones? I would _love_ to be a prefect." Astoria couldn't help but raise a brow at her. Annie had never expressed interest in becoming a prefect before.

"Because Malfoy's one?"

"No, because it seems like fun. Having some power, you know?" She nodded, chewing on a bite of baked potato. She could actually agree with that – having the power that came with prefect status _would_ be fun. She just hadn't expected Marianne to say so.

The following morning, Astoria was groggily forcing breakfast down her throat when a letter, folded in the shape of a bird carrying a tiny envelope, fluttered gently to the space in front of her plate. Glancing around, she quickly unfolded it.

_To Miss Astoria Greengrass,_

_Congratulations! You have been selected to serve as a prefect for Slytherin House…_

She skimmed the rest and plucked the badge from the little envelope attached to the letter, smirking. This was a welcome surprise. Her mind jumped to what Annie had said the day before. She might be jealous, she thought idly, running a finger over the word "PREFECT" engraved on the green chevron. Thrilled, she proudly clipped the badge to her robe and folded the letter, slipping it into her pocket.

It wasn't until after her classes were over for the day that she ran into Draco, who was reading in the common room when she returned from Muggle Studies.

"Greengrass." She stopped in her tracks. She hadn't spoken to Malfoy in several days. "Heard the news," he said, his eyes still fixed on his Potions book. "Pansy was supposed to inform you of your duties and give you the bathroom's password, but she's got a paper due already and asked me to take care of it." As usual, he sounded bored.

"I'll wait until she's done," replied Astoria dismissively, staring up the steps.

"Check the schedule. You have patrol tonight." She pursed her lips, turning reluctantly.

"Alright, Malfoy. What do I have to do?"

"Have a seat," he said tiredly, setting his book aside for the time being. She sighed and sat down in an armchair. He'd been avoiding her since their last encounter, afraid of what he'd realized that night. So far, it had been working. He gave her a quick summary of her duties, which included enforcing the rules and deducting points, as well as overseeing preparation for various school events. "The bathroom is on the fifth floor. Password is 'spring water.'"

"Is that all?" she asked impatiently, wanting to revert to the safety of her room.

"Yes, that's all." She was about to get up to leave when she hesitated, turning back toward him.

"Malfoy?"

"Hm?"

"I'm not going to tell her." His stomach flipped.

"About what?" She glanced away from him and then leaned closer, lowering her voice.

"The Mark. I'm still going to tell her what you did," she said coldly. He blinked at her.

"Why?" She gaped at him incredulously.

"Because you're still a swine, and you don't deserve her." He rolled his eyes.

"No; why won't you tell her about the Mark?" She looked away for a moment, feeling stupid for answering a question he hadn't asked.

"Oh." She sighed. "It's… not my secret to tell." He sneered at her.

"How very Gryffindor of you. Sure you're in the right house, Greengrass?" She was about to open her mouth to retort when he continued. "Oh, wait. You still haven't said a word about that other night, either. I suppose you are in the right house. Tell me something – what if Blaise were to find out what happened? Who would he blame?"

As if on cue, the man in question descended from the stairs and approached the two of them.

"Astoria. There you are. I was looking for you; heard about the prefect position." Without warning, he leaned down to kiss her deeply. Draco felt a peculiar anger leap into his chest. Was it because he knew what Blaise did to her? Or was there some other reason? His mind flashed to that night. It had been on the sofa just across the room. She'd kissed him back so fervently.

When Blaise pulled away, her face was flushed.

"Thanks, Blaise," she said nervously, hoping he hadn't jumped to any conclusions when he saw her sitting with Draco. "Didn't really expect it, you know? Draco was just telling me about the responsibilities." Her heart skipped several beats. She'd called him by his first name again. In front of Blaise. It shouldn't have been such a big deal, but she normally called him 'Malfoy'. She sank, knowing Blaise would remember that for when they were alone.

Sure enough, his eyes flashed with something vicious when he heard his friend's name. Draco, meanwhile, felt a similar pang of anxiety. He, too, knew Blaise wouldn't let it go. Why had she done it again? And here, in front of him? Did she have a death wish?

"I'm glad you two are getting along. We'll talk later, Astoria," he said with a bright smile. It was almost convincing. "I haven't had dinner yet." He sauntered out of the common room, leaving her petrified. She was about to get up when Draco spoke again.

"Well done, Greengrass," he said sarcastically, going back to his book.

"Shut up, arse. He's going to kill me."

"Dunno why you stay with him," he mumbled, turning a page.

"I don't know why you stay with Annie; you obviously don't care about her," she snapped. Draco was the only other person who knew about the darker side of her relationship with Blaise, and he was acting like it didn't even matter.

"I do care about her. She's just not…" Astoria gaped at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn't.

"Not what?"

"Why are you suddenly so taken with my name?" he asked tauntingly, changing the subject. "Got a crush, Greengrass?"

"You didn't answer me."

"Neither have you." She'd had enough. Abruptly, she stood, ripping the book from his hands and tossing it to the floor.

"I haven't got a _crush_, you wretched monster. Blaise is going to kill me, and it's your fault!" she whispered urgently, towering over him. He was suddenly reminded of when he'd kissed her again.

"Funny; from what I remember you're the one who used my name. _Draco was just telling me about our new prefect duties!_" he mimicked. Once again, he knew he was being cruel. He gathered his book off the floor and stood, forcing her to look up to keep eye contact. He looked down at her, smirking venomously. She prayed he couldn't hear her heart pounding when her gaze fell to his tie.

"I don't have a bloody crush on you, Malfoy."

"Leave Blaise." Once again, he'd abruptly changed the subject.

"Leave Annie. You'd be doing her a favor."

"Annie hasn't been beating me for months," he said nonchalantly. Not only had he referred to her friend by her nickname for her, but he'd once again taunted her for the situation with Blaise. He was about to take a step back when her hand flew out, slapping him squarely across the face. He winced, his eyes hardening. "What the hell?"

"Don't talk to me about Blaise again. I don't need your input, and I don't need your advice, swine." He glared back at her, jaw tensed. With one final scowl, she abruptly turned away and stomped up the steps to the girls' dormitory. It wasn't until the door was securely shut behind her that she allowed herself to sink to her legs. A quivering sigh escaped her lips. The sun was just setting and it had been a cloudy day, casting a grey overtone over the whole room. Thankful that none of her roommates were home – especially Annie – she allowed herself a few tears.

The miserable truth was that Draco might be right. Who knew how long it would take for Blaise to stop hurting her? And what if he really lost control one of these days? The thought terrified her, but she had grown so attached to him. His beautiful, high cheekbones. The way he ran his fingers over her knuckles. That intense, dark stare. He was intoxicating. How could she ever turn him away?

She managed to avoid both Blaise and Draco for the remainder of the evening. Her patrol for the night was shared with one Kieran Hollowgate, who decided to patrol the south-most corridors while she moved about the northern ones in the wing surrounding the Slytherin common area. She was getting sleepy when she caught two Gryffindor first-years kissing furiously around a corner. After deducting thirty points from their house and sending them back to their rooms, she took a moment to rest at the base of one of the stairwells. It wasn't too late – nearly midnight – but walking around aimlessly got tedious. At least her shift was nearly over.

As her eyes were just about to flutter shut, another set of footsteps seemed to be creeping up to her. Startled, she jumped to her feet and awaited the visitor. Her heart skipped a beat when a candle on the wall cast its flickering light across Blaise's smirking face. Pure dread coursed through her veins.

"Checked the prefect's schedule in the common room. Saw you were on duty tonight," he said, approaching her slowly. Somehow, he didn't seem angry, as she'd expected. Instead, he seemed… pleasant. Happy to see her. Tentatively, she began to slowly drop her guard as his arms circled her waist.

"I'm glad to see you. I was growing bored," she said happily, burrowing into the curve of his neck. He was so warm.

"So was I. Studying all evening. When are you done?" he mumbled into her hair.

"Soon. At midnight." He glanced at his watch. "It's eleven-fifty. Can you sneak out early?" he asked devilishly, grinning at her. She reflected his wicked look and pretended to deliberate for a moment.

"I think that should be alright…" she said playfully. He grabbed her by the hand and she giggled as quietly as she could as they ran down the hallway, praying there were no roaming staff members around any corners. They safely made it to the common room and she glanced around quickly before trotting up the stairs behind him, still stifling her laughter. It was only the first week of classes, she was a prefect, and she was already breaking rules. It was thrilling.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Oh dear God. This chapter kinda ripped me apart a little bit, and it's not even as intense as I had originally planned. Writing this was a total NIGHTMARE. I hope you enjoy, considering I basically sold my soul to it xD**

| |- Born of Faith - | |

[8]

He was already kissing her when he opened the door behind her back, sending them stumbling into the dark bedroom. Her heart was racing. Smirking, he pushed her roughly onto his bed, which was next to Draco's. She giggled again and pushed him back a bit, eyeing his roommate's bed.

"Is he here?" she whispered, still on the verge of laughter.

"He's the only one. Don't worry; heavy sleeper," he reassured her. So Draco was the only other roommate in the room. The other two beds were not only empty, but unmade. Did they even have any other roommates? She didn't have time to ponder it, as his hand was drifting further up her leg to the hem of her skirt.

"Blaise, we can't… not with him here!" she said, squirming. It was too awkward. What if he woke up?

In reality, Draco was wide awake, horrified. Silently, he prayed they wouldn't consummate their "love" right now, with him in the room. Not only did it make him uncomfortable, but he knew what type of relationship they had. He wasn't sure if he could stomach hearing them have sex, knowing the things she tolerated. At least his back was turned to his roommate's bed.

"He won't wake," said Blaise. There was suddenly an edge to his voice. "What are you worried about?" he asked, feigning concern.

"Malfoy is right there. I can't… not with someone here!" He drew closer to her, pulling her to the center of his bed and climbing on top. Ignoring her, he kissed her again. Reluctantly, she returned his kiss and then turned away. "Blaise. Stop." He didn't respond, only letting his hands wander over her school shirt. Straddling her, he fiddled with the buttons. "Blaise!" She squirmed more. Rolling his eyes, he held her wrists close to her waist with one hand and continued undoing the buttons with the other. "Stop!" she pled once more, panic rising. He wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. He had to listen to her. He loved her, right? "Not like this—"

Draco drew in a sharp breath when he heard a crack. There was a moment of silence as he realized he'd slapped her again.

"What do you mean 'not like this'? It's been months, Astoria. It's Malfoy, isn't it? I know you fancy him. That's it, isn't it?!" he demanded, his voice growing louder. She winced. Draco would never be able to stay asleep if Blaise kept making so much noise. Head still spinning from the force of his palm, she could barely process what was going on when he leapt off the bed and pulled her after him, tossing her into the bureau. There was a great crash and a whimper as several things fell from its surface. Her face had made contact with the sharp wooden edge. The pain caught her by surprise, drawing a tear from her eye. "I'm really getting sick of this," continued Blaise, pulling her back to the bed and bending her over its edge. Though she was muffled by the bedspread, she whimpered out her protest and struggled against his firm grip.

There was no use.

Draco was sweating. Should he stand up? Should he stop him? Last time he'd witnessed Blaise hurting her, he'd stood idly by and watched. It had been wrong, but this was different. He wasn't just beating her anymore. Merlin, had this happened before?

A shuddering sob ripped through his mind. It took all his willpower not to twitch and blow his cover. _What was that?!_ he thought urgently, horrified. It was all he could do to try and focus again on what Blaise was saying.

"Is that it? Do you fancy him?" His hands were getting slick. Maybe if she struggled enough she could get one free and draw her wand, she thought quickly, craning her neck so she could speak.

"I don't. I don't even know him!" she insisted, her voice shaking. "Please, stop." Draco was shocked. She was still keeping her voice low. She should scream. Instead, she was still protecting him. Blaise laughed mirthlessly.

"I don't believe that. You're not calling him 'Malfoy' anymore. It's so obvious."

A plan hatched in Draco's mind. There was certainly a more cunning way to do this than recklessly throwing himself into the situation. Slowly, he began to stir. Blaise froze, his gaze snapping to his roommate. As far as he knew, Draco was a heavy sleeper. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Blaise only assumed he was asleep when he was actually in the habit of lying awake for several hours every night.

Astoria's heart skipped several beats. _Please don't wake,_ she prayed. She wouldn't be able to handle it if Draco saw her like this. Not again. Once was bad enough for her pride. What horrible things would he say if he witnessed yet another one of Blaise's tantrums? She'd never live it down.

Clearly, her prayer had gone nowhere. Draco sat up slowly, turning groggily to his roommate.

"Zabini, would you mind—" His thoughts came to a screeching halt. After his eyes adjusted to the dim light what he saw was gut-wrenching. Shocked, he stared at them. No one moved.

Her neck was turned at an awkward angle and he was able to meet her eyes. She looked panicked, but what stunned him even further was the massive bruise and bloody welt on her cheek, which he was sure would stain Zabini's sheets. Aside from that, Blaise had her effectively restrained. Her hands were secured against her back, held in place by his own. Disgusted, he looked away. He definitely hadn't been prepared for that.

"She's bleeding," he muttered, knowing he was being foolish. Instantly, Blaise helped her up. She scrambled to re-button her top and turned away from them both, choking back sobs. This was too much. Far, far too much. Why did he have to see her like that?

"I tripped," she said over her shoulder. The struggle to keep her voice even was monumental. Draco, still pretending to have just woken up, rubbed his eyes and turned to his friend.

"I'd appreciate it if you kept it down. Or at least did this elsewhere," he mumbled. She knew he was aware of her lie. It was all for Blaise, to assure him his secret was safe with her. He thought again of the way her hair had fallen in beautiful waves the night they'd gone to Hogsmeade with Marianne. The lace-up boots, too – all for Blaise. And he'd _thrown her into the bureau_. It made him sick. He was his friend, yes, but it still made him sick. "Haven't you got patrol tonight?" he asked, looking at the floor. He didn't want to see the blood on her face again. The less he saw, the better.

"Shift's over," she replied, her voice still quivering from the adrenaline. Blaise had almost raped her. In front of Draco. Thank God he'd woken up. Blaise stood there, quietly livid. Silently, he hoped Malfoy hadn't heard much. If his roommate hadn't woken up… what would he have done? "I was just… leaving," continued Astoria tentatively, glancing at Blaise. He didn't reply. He only fixed her with a hard stare.

"Lovely. Then perhaps I can get some sleep," said Draco, injecting his usual degree of bitterness into his voice.

She excused herself, knowing exactly where she would go. Somewhere Blaise couldn't find her. The steps were a blur beneath her feet as she ran urgently to the fifth floor, past the statue of Boris the Bewildered. She whispered the password and entered the Prefect's Bathroom. Slowly, she paced to the steps surrounding the grand, pool-like bathtub. The marble was cool under her legs as she sat down, holding her forehead in her hands as she tried to gather herself. It didn't make sense. Blaise cared for her, right? At least a little bit? How could he have…?

Still in shock, she put her head in her lap. Her face was numb with pain.

In the boys' dormitory, Draco's heart was still racing. He'd seen injustice. He'd _lived_ it. There was a time when it didn't bother him. In fact, when it was in his favor, he reveled in it still.

But this had nothing to do with him, yet somehow it still made him uneasy. The way he'd mercilessly thrown her against the bureau, and shoved her over onto the bed… There was no justifying it. Draco had done despicable things, but not like that. Never like that.

Was it his own weakness? Not being able to stomach this type of cruelty?

No. He'd learned that during the War. It wasn't a weakness. His mother had shown him the merit in compassion.

He needed to clear his mind. It had been an hour or so, and Blaise was now fast asleep. As quietly as he could, he made his exit. Being a prefect had its perks – he was absolutely sure the bathroom would be empty now. It was nearly two in the morning.

It was difficult to tell how much time passed as she sat there on the tile. Idly, she wondered where her exhaustion from the end of her shift had gone. Though the adrenaline from Blaise's attack was gone, she still felt completely on edge. When the door opened, she jumped. Who was joining her now? So late at night? God, if Blaise had found a way in, she would be completely cornered.

Her questions were answered when platinum blonde hair appeared in the doorway. Draco walked in slowly, assuming the room was empty. However, before he shut the door behind him, Astoria caught his eye.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out. Half of him was annoyed at not having the bathroom to himself. But when he recalled what he'd seen, he immediately felt sorry for his selfishness. She was curled up on the steps and looking at him with a true deer-in-headlights expression. It occurred to him that she'd wanted to get away from Zabini. The girls' dormitory was so close. Where could she go where he could not follow? Here, of course.

Instead of a reply, she simply got up and started making her way toward him. As she approached, he realized she was actually going toward the door. "You don't have to go. I know you're hiding from him." Instinctively, he reached out to wrap his hand around her arm. She violently jerked away, giving him a wild, suspicious look.

"Don't touch me!" she cried, tears springing back into her eyes. Blind fear resonated off her.

His heart sank.

"You don't have to leave," he repeated. "_I'm_ not going to hurt you," he finished with a slight sneer. She didn't reply at first.

"How much did you hear?" she asked, staring at the tiles.

"Astoria…" Her head snapped up to look at him again. He'd never said her name like that before. It was gentle on his lips. Safe. She noticed the parallel – she'd accidentally used his, he accidentally used hers. "What?" he asked, noticing her stare.

"Nothing. How much did you hear?" she demanded again. He drew in a slow, deep breath. "How much?" she repeated when he didn't reply.

"Enough," he said finally. She didn't need to know he'd been awake the whole time.

Thankfully, his answer was sufficient. She ran a hand through her matted hair and sighed, turning back toward the bath steps. She couldn't go back. Not yet. The thought of being near Blaise filled her with dread. Slowly, she dragged herself to the steps and sat down. Draco sighed.

"Were you planning to take a bath?" She didn't respond. He sighed again, taking a seat next to her. "Look, I told you to leave him." He was slightly annoyed. If she sat here like this his own bath would never happen.

"I'm going to," she said quietly.

"Excellent," he said quickly, loosening his tie slightly. She lifted her head up, staring at him grimly. A confused look flickered on his features. The blood had dried a bit on her face, surrounded by bruises.

"I love him," she said slowly. Nausea rose in Draco's chest once again. She was badly beaten this time, yet here she was, professing to love him. He didn't say a word as he pulled his wand from his robes, hand shaking. "What are you doing?" she asked, her heart sinking at the sight of his wand.

It had occurred to him that perhaps he could make her forget her attraction to Blaise. It'd solve her problem, wouldn't it? But with the tip of his wand pointed at her face, a different spell formed on his lips.

"_Aparecium."_ In moments, the wounds seemed to worsen. Deep purple bruises from the week before appeared as well. "_Episkey_." With his next spell, they faded. The blood disappeared, leaving her face clear of damage.

She was at a loss. He'd healed her. She didn't even know that spell. But suddenly, the pain was gone.

"Thanks…" she said, looking away. There. She was beautiful again, with that bright golden hair falling over her face. Beyond it, he could barely detect a blush. His heart raced again. He remembered how much she'd attracted him when she was angry. Another feeling was dawning on him, seeing her so hurt, but this one was a bit different.

For the first time, Draco felt protective.

Using the tip of his wand on her chin, he turned her face toward him again. He'd meant to say something, but it was difficult to place. So instead, he just looked at her. And she looked back. Somehow, that look communicated more than he could have put into words. His wand dipped to the curve of her neck.

It would be so easy. _Obliviate._ Four syllables. _Ob-liv-i-ate. _

The word wouldn't form in his throat. His eyes drifted back up to hers and she didn't look fearful anymore.

"Are you going to?" she asked, her voice surprisingly even. If it weren't for her thoroughly untidy hair and rumpled uniform shirt, she would have looked completely normal. "Make me forget?"

Her heart beat so hard she thought it might stop as he leaned toward her, his wand still pointed at her throat. She feared he could hear the rhythmic beats as his lips met hers, softly. Once again, she was taken aback at how tenderly he kissed her. Suddenly, with him, she felt at peace. Every thought of Blaise or Marianne had disappeared – there was nothing but Draco, keeping her safe. Before pulling away slightly, she kissed him back just as gently. With millimeters between them, he spoke.

"I don't want you to forget."

There was a clang as his wand hit the porcelain tub, rolling to its center. This time, she leaned in toward him and let her head rest on his chest. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

She cried quietly. It was weak, and sorrowful, and it tore his heart apart with every breath she took.


	9. Chapter 9

| |- Born of Faith - | |

[9]

_It was hot in Astoria's room. Far, far too hot. She opened the window with the hope that a cool breeze would bring the temperature down. Instead, the same hot air simply flowed in and out of the room. She sighed. Even in her thin nightgown, she was uncomfortable as she got back on her bed._

_There was a knock at the door. _

"_Come in," she called, uncaring about her appearance. It was too hot to wrap a shawl around herself right now. When she saw who stood in the doorway, however, she immediately regretted her carelessness. It was Blaise. She resisted a blush as she eyed his high, tanned cheekbones and beautifully broad shoulders. It was strange that he was here – he usually slept early. "Blaise. I wasn't expecting you." He cleared his throat and let his eyes dip momentarily to her chest, which was covered by the nearly-translucent fabric. _

"_Who did you expect?" he asked with a smirk. She smiled coyly, kicking her legs over the edge of the bed._

"_Daphne, I think." She paced over to him, knowing how her presence made him nervous. "Don't you think it's a bit late for you to be here?" she asked, snaking her arms around his neck. For four weeks now they'd lived in bliss. Blaise's mum had let him stay here with her after he managed to convince her he had nothing to do at home, and the two of them had spent nearly every waking moment together._

"_It's never too late to be with you," he replied smoothly, leaning down for a kiss. She smiled against his lips and he drew closer. When she pulled away, his eyes were filled with a curious warmth she could have recognized a mile away. "Astoria," he mumbled, bringing his lips to her neck for a series of electrifying kisses. She gasped quietly and listened as her heart beat faster._

"_My parents are on the other side of this wall," she whispered nervously. If they caught him here, they would send him back. He'd never be allowed to stay at the Greengrass Estate ever again, and that was something she didn't want to risk. "You know they'll send you away if they hear…"_

_They'd made love before, but never at night. Never with her family nearby. It was during the lazy, hot summer days that they found time to be alone, with sunlight warming their bare skin and everyone miles from the Estate. _

"_They won't hear," he said reassuringly, guiding her back to the bed. She knew better._

"_Of course they will. We can wait until morning," she said quickly, pushing him away._

_It was a mistake. Her heart raced quicker when she noticed the sudden change in him. It came in the form of a momentary cold glare and his hands wrapped around her wrists._

"_They won't hear," he repeated, staring her in the eye. She glared back._

"_Blaise. I'm saying no. I'll see you in the morning," she said, tugging her wrists away. What he did next shocked them both. In one quick, swift motion, he slapped her tightly across the face. She froze. It took a moment for her to adjust to what had happened. "You slapped me." He didn't reply. "How dare you?!" With that, she slapped him back, livid. A bright red hand print appeared on his cheek. Somehow, he seemed more surprised at himself than at her retaliation._

"_God. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Astoria—"_

"_Get out!" she shrieked, no longer caring whether or not her parents woke. Incidentally, they did not. After a rueful look, Blaise simply sulked out of the room, already planning how he would make it up to her._

_She'd planned to leave him, but it didn't happen again for some time. He'd apologized, after all. She had assumed the problem was dead and buried until one day early in August. Their small boat glided over the surface of the pond behind the Estate, which was surrounded by beautiful weeping willows. It was just like the quieter parts of Venice, she thought, sighing happily. It had been years since she'd been to Italy. She'd been daydreaming on the sunlight drifting through the long, leafy tendrils when Blaise put the oars down, sitting before her._

"_What're you thinking about?" he asked, forcing her to look at him with a slow smile._

"_Nothing, really. The light." The shadows danced across her face as the boat moved. Blaise reached across the boat, tipping her chin upwards for a kiss._

"_I was just thinking about how lovely you are," he said. She raised a brow at him. Blaise never ran out of flowery compliments for her._

"_I find that hard to believe," she replied with a quiet laugh._

"_Why?" he asked, returning her grin._

"_Because that's so corny!" she said, laughing a bit more. Rejection flickered across his features. _

"_Oh really?" She could have sworn she caught a hint of cold sarcasm in his voice. It was all he said before shoving her roughly, sending her tumbling off the edge of the boat. She was overcome with adrenaline as she fought to get back to the surface, wading toward the edge of the pond. With a great gasp, she met the air as realization dawned on her. Ready to blast him for his offense, she whirled around in rage. However, he had a peculiar look on his face. In hindsight, she would consider it somewhat domineering. With the oars in his lap, he gave her an icy smirk that eventually broke into quiet, derisive laughter._

_So he was kidding. That was what the laughter meant, right? He hadn't meant to hurt her. Nervously, she laughed along. He hadn't really caused any damage, anyway. _

Astoria woke on the bathroom floor, grim. She hadn't dreamt of the past in a long time. Sighing as her eyes adjusted, she realized that was how it had started. She'd started making excuses.

Beneath her, something stirred. Her heart dropped. _Oh, God._

"Malfoy!" she shrieked, jumping off him. She'd fallen asleep with her head on his chest. His arm fell from her waist, where it had rested, evidently, all night. "Get up!" His hand drifted to his head, resting across his eyes to block out the light.

"Quiet, please. Too early."

"_Yes._ It's _morning._ And that means your roommate has probably noticed you're missing, and _my_ roommate has probably noticed _I'm_ missing." She spoke quickly, brushing herself off. Her reflection caught her eye. She was a dreadful disaster, with her makeup smeared from the night before and hair tangled on one side of her head.

"Please. Don't talk," he mumbled groggily, sitting up slowly. Her heart dropped again and she thought she might vomit at the sight before her. His robe had come undone at the waist, falling to the sides and revealing green plaid pajamas and a very, very bare chest.

"Oh my God. Fix that," she said, staring down at him. She'd fallen asleep on his bare skin. God, he was stunning. He'd come down here to have a bath last night, right? She shoved the thoughts from her mind, remembering Marianne.

His eyes finally adjusted and he seemed to be fully awake suddenly. Jumping to his feet, he ran a frantic hand through his hair. It was almost as disheveled as hers. She noticed he didn't bother tying his robe.

"What time is it?" he demanded.

"How should I know?! Tie your robe!" Still, he ignored her request.

"They'll have noticed we're gone!" he said. It was almost comical to see the concern spread slowly across his face. Sighing huffily, she glared at him.

"Oh really? Glad you mentioned it. We ought to get back, then. Tie your bloody robe," she hissed, making her way to the door. His arm shot out, grabbing her.

"Not my fault you've got a crush. If she asks, what are you going to tell her?" She glared at him, but let the comment go for the time being. There were more important things at hand, as he'd mentioned.

"I'll tell her…" she paused, thinking. "I fell asleep on patrol. What will you tell Blaise?" she said. Sadness dawned on her face momentarily as she remembered the night before. He ignored her uneasiness and scoffed.

"I don't have to tell Blaise anything. We're not girls." She rolled her eyes and wrenched her arm away.

"Glad you've got that covered. _I'll_ be lying on your behalf, git." With that, she rushed out. It occurred to her that he should know not to leave right away. If anyone saw them leave together, it could come back to bite them.

She realized she wasn't really just lying on his behalf. In all honesty, she was lying for both of them. He wasn't the only one who'd made a mistake last night. She'd kissed him back again, and she'd fallen asleep on him. She'd let him hold her while she cried. From what she'd remembered, she hadn't protested when he wrapped his arm around her on the cold tile. God, it was only the first week of classes and school was already a nightmare.

Thankfully, she found Marianne still fast asleep when she snuck back into her room. Her other two roommates, Yolanda Brooke and Tiffany Gilligan, seemed to be asleep as well. God, what time was it? If they weren't up for classes yet…

She crept around to the side of her bed. It was 7:58. Amazed at her luck, she dived into bed. There were just two minutes before Annie's alarm would ring. She took those two minutes to relax herself. When the alarm finally did go off, she had the covers pulled over her, concealing her clothes from the night before. Forcing her breathing to stay even, she listened as Annie rolled out of bed and marched into the bathroom.

That had been too close of a call. She waited patiently until Marianne was ready for classes and long gone before getting out of bed herself. These tricky situations with Draco had to stop.

She managed to avoid Blaise for the majority of the day. Around four, after she was done with class, she toyed with the idea of just avoiding him indefinitely. But, of course, that was impossible. They would inevitably run into each other in the common room. It wasn't until later in the evening that she finally ran into him. Just like the night before, she'd been reading peacefully by the fire when he traipsed down the stairs. She could see him approach her out of the corner of her eye but she didn't look up.

"Astoria." Still, she didn't look up. He sighed deeply and she could picture him running a hand through his hair. It was getting quite long. "Can we talk?" She flipped a page.

"I've got no interest in talking to you," she said casually. If she looked at him right now, she wouldn't be able to do this. She forced herself to think of the humiliation she'd suffered last night. If she didn't focus on how much he put her through, she would never be able to leave him.

Blaise's heart dropped a bit before the anger set in.

"Nothing happened. Are you really not going to forgive me?"

"Blaise, don't speak to me again." The words stabbed her own heart as much as his. This had to be it. Her mind flashed to the searing pain she'd felt in her cheek last night as she slammed into the bureau.

"I'll speak to you whenever I like, thank you—"

"I'm done, Blaise." He was taken aback for a moment, his worst fears actualized.

"Really? You can't leave me."

"I can. I think I have enough bruises by now," she said, finally forcing herself to look at him with a new surge of confidence. Maybe he really would just go away. Maybe she could mourn how awful it had become in peace. He scoffed, but there was a hint of panic in his eyes.

"Please. Don't be dramatic. You can't leave me." She pursed her lips, grim.

"We aren't even 'together'," she reminded him. To this, he simply nodded at her, containing his rage in a clenched jaw. They were, after all, in the common room. She was amazed when, instead of screaming at her, he whipped around and stormed up the stairs. It wasn't until he was well out of sight that she let the hollow sadness overwhelm her. Slowly, she shut the book she'd been reading and stared into the empty fireplace. She hadn't expected it to end like this. In fact, it hadn't hit her yet. What had she done?

_What you had to do,_ she told herself, her brow furrowing slightly. It was a peculiar feeling – no matter how deeply she thought of it, she couldn't cry. Perhaps she'd gotten all her tears out last night. Still, the sadness was overwhelming. Now, she let her mind drift back to the hot summer days they'd spent together. For so long, she'd truly believed he was worth the pain.

_What now?_ she asked herself. The ashes, of course, offered no answers.

Draco had been in the dining hall with Theodore Nott when the words popped into his mind.

"_What now?"_

He froze for a moment, staring intently at the baked chicken in front of him. It was a few seconds before he dared to take another breath. That was the second time he'd felt something in his mind that wasn't his.

"Oy. Malfoy. It doesn't talk," said Theodore playfully, knocking Draco on the shoulder. He shrugged him off.

"Shut up." He glared at his friend and took a bite. He knew that voice. It was a girl's. And not just any girl's. A certain blonde who he had a feeling was freshly single, or would be soon.

The problem was… he wasn't.

Quietly, he kicked himself for even having the thought.


End file.
